


Luck

by AbleG



Series: Orange Colored Sky [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Sadness, give him a break, his wife is dead and his son is missing and he is a sad boy in the rain, prewar, trauma??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:00:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbleG/pseuds/AbleG
Summary: Stuck in a downpour and with nothing else to do but drink and think, Wyatt Novak relives the horrible nightmare that ruined the life he once had.





	Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Who wants a severely unedited super late upload?! I bet you do!!! Seriously, though. I wrote this a long time ago along with the rest of the first few stories, but I intended to post it in a group of three consecutive stories. I haven't touched them since then. So I apologize if they're rough. I had them saved up so I could go back and edit, but now I'm starting to realize that's not likely, so I'll just post them slowly while I work on my SECOND Bethesda related story. Because I'm apparently on a mission to fix all of Todd Howard's inability to tell stories now. And because sitting on this indefinitely was unthinkable, since I had to do so much fuggin' research to make this thing as accurate as possible... for who? For me. Because i needed it.

Luck never seemed to be on Novak’s side. At least, not from his own perspective. Especially not lately. As the week had gone on, the weather seemed to have grown tired of playing coy. The clouds had opened up from a lazy drizzle into a full downpour. It was cold and wet, and Novak had found himself trapped outside of Goodneighbor, his only shelter a makeshift workshop in the side of a building, located next to a small play park. Of course the shelter he had scoped out hadn’t been empty. Of course he had to fight off a particularly large, irradiated bear to claim the spot. Of course, he had to lure the bear safely away from the location before killing it in order to prevent any scavengers from lurking around where they weren’t wanted. It had been no small feat, and it left him exhausted.

He huddled close to the small fire he had built. The flames were kept low so the light from the fire wouldn’t be so easily seen through the darkness of the evening rainfall. Had he wanted something more substantial, it would not have mattered. He only managed to find a few pieces of scrap wood that had been protected from the weather and were dry enough to hold a blaze. To make things worse, he was trying to use the fire to cook some of the meat he had carved from his foe earlier. A yao guai, he had heard some of the locals call the new models of an old beast. He was cold, wet, and impatient. The meat was curing slowly in the heat, and he was eager to eat something that wasn’t preserved cakes, or canned beans. It was hard to sit and wait, but he knew better than to just devour the raw flesh of a mutated animal.

While he sat and stoked the fire with a metal rod he had found lying in the street, he reached over to take a swig of his last bottle of whiskey. There was no one around to chastise him for his dependency on alcohol, so would often times find himself curling up in a bottle late during the nights where his memories and fears would keep him awake. He was trying to manage it, for survival’s sake. He had only brought two bottles with him for the trip from Sanctuary to Diamond City, and then to Goodneighbor. Alcohol made the mind hazy and slow, which was a deadly combination out in the wasteland where every second counted. Still, he was in a bad way and needed the comfort. The alcohol also clouded his emotional judgement, making him more nostalgic and less concerned about not looking back.

**It was October 23rd, the year was 2077. Outside, the sun was shining and the weather was warm, despite the time of year. This made him hopeful. If the weather stayed nice, he might have Codsworth sew up a quick little costume to take his beautiful son, Shaun, on his first time trick-or-treating. Nora had insisted that it was mostly pointless to take a child less than one year old out for an event that he wouldn’t even remember, but he was too eager to be a father to let his son’s lack of memory get in the way. As long as Shaun was smiling and happy, nothing else mattered. And what was more exciting then getting to see new things? And gumming on a delightfully crinkly wrapper on a large candybar, with your father closely supervising you so you didn’t choke?**

**Wyatt Novak was standing in the mirror in the spotless bathroom, Crazy He Calls Me playing softly on the radio as he combed out his dark hair until it was perfect. Not a single strand out of place. He didn’t want to look sloppy or out of place for the ceremony at the Veteran’s Hall down in Concord. There was a chance he’d receive some sort of honor for his service, and the last thing he wanted was to be immortalized there, looking like some sort of bum who didn’t respect his country. In these times, patriotism was everything. For a former soldier to give the impression that he didn’t care about his country enough to dress appropriately…? Well, that would be the civilian version of wearing enemy colors.**

**Wyatt washed away the flecks of hair in the sink left over from when he had shaved with hot water, causing the mirror to fog up. Nora wouldn’t be happy with him leaving the bathroom a mess after she had just cleaned it two days ago. When the mirror started to clear up, he gave himself one last look over. His chin was clean, no patches of hair left behind, not a single scar on his naturally tan skin. His dark hair was perfect. There would be nothing to cause a riot among his neighbors, nothing to cause a stir for the media. This was a serious ceremony that would honor the brave men and women who fought to keep America free, while they continued to live their lives, complaining about their lack of resources while also flying a star-spangled banner outside their door.**

**“War never changes…” Wyatt said with a sigh, looking at his image in the mirror. That’s when he saw her in the reflection of the mirror.**

**Nora was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her arms crossed and a loving and patient smile lighting up her soft face. She was beautiful. She was a force all of her own, and Wyatt’s rock. No one could tell at a glance, but it was Nora that ran the household. She was by far the most qualified to do so, anyway. She was a lawyer, and had a commanding presence about her. There was nothing that she couldn’t do, no obstacle that she couldn’t overcome. When Wyatt felt the grim reality of the world that only a soldier who had faced what might yet come close around him, Nora gave him hope. She was always patient with him, too. Even when he had struggled to adjust to life as a civilian, she had helped him through it. They weren’t a perfect couple, as there was no such thing. They had their disagreements. Like when Nora had refused to let Wyatt decorate their entire bedroom with Silver Shroud memorabilia, or when Nora had tried to get Wyatt to switch over to a “healthier”, more vegetable-oriented diet. Still, He couldn’t imagine life without her.**

**“You’re going to knock them dead at the Veteran’s Hall tonight, hon.” She reassured as she pushed off of the doorframe and stepped inside the bathroom. Wyatt felt muscles relax that he hadn’t realized were tensing up.**

**“You think?” Wyatt asked, looking over his shoulder at her.**

**“Absolutely.” Nora replied softly. Her expression and tone then switched to something a bit more teasing. “Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror…”**

**“Right…” Wyatt chuckled and backed out of the bathroom, giving Nora her space. She enjoyed poking fun at him for taking almost twice as long as she did to get ready for anything. Wyatt couldn’t help that he was more fastidious about his appearance than she was. Nora didn’t have to be. She looked amazing all the time. He had to work at it.**

**He heard the sound of a soft rocket booster and mechanical servos, well-oiled, bustling around the kitchen. Codsworth must be preparing breakfast. Wyatt thought it better to eat before he got into his formal attire, in case of spills, so he took a right and headed for the kitchen area. There, he found Codsworth hard at work. The immaculate condition of the kitchen was reflected in the polished sphere that made up the majority of Codsworth’s chassis; Codsworth kept things clean and efficient, almost to a military precision. Maybe that was why the Mr. Gutsy models were so close in design to the Mr. Handys.**

**“Ah, good morning, sir!” Codsworth boomed with extra gusto as he spun around, a coffee pot in one of his three arms. Wyatt sometimes wondered if the Mr. Handys were more dramatic due to lack of facial expressions. Whatever the reason, he found it charming. He smiled as Codsworth approached the counter. “Your coffee. 173.5 degrees fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection! And today’s newspaper, just delivered.”**

**Wyatt glanced at the paper automatically, not really interested in what was in it. More of the same. Instead, he turned his attention to the copy of the newest issue of Grognak the Barbarian he had left out. Before he could pick up his coffee and begin reading, Nora stepped into the kitchen as well, having finished in the bathroom. He was pleased to see that her attention went to the newspaper almost immediately. He would be allowed to read his comic book in peace.**

**A loud wailing cry sounded in the room farthest from the kitchen. Shaun. He had been sleeping soundly up to this point, having stayed up late last night with a small cough. Wyatt had been worried about him and wanted to stay up, but Nora had eventually coaxed him to bed. Shaun had fallen asleep shortly after his parents left the room, since there were no more distractions to keep him awake. Wyatt looked up quickly when he heard the cry, setting his coffee back down on the counter.**

**“Ah, sounds like someone made a stinky! I shall attend to young Shaun.” Codsworth announced before Wyatt got up, so Wyatt relinquished control to the robot butler and picked up his coffee again. Codsworth could handle Shaun, Wyatt reassured himself.**

**He looked over to see Nora smiling at him, looking like she knew exactly what he was thinking as well. “You know, I was nervous at first, but Codsworth’s really good with Shaun.”**

**The fact that Codsworth had an entirely reflective surface that could keep a small child mesmerized for hours sure helped, Wyatt thought, but he agreed. The two of them sat in comfortable silence while the TV played the news in the background.**

**“...But then we’re looking at a cold front coming down from Canada, making it crisp and dry for next week’s Halloween festivities. Looking in on next week’s forecast, we have a high of 52 on Monday.” The weather man reporter announced. Wyatt looked up and sighed in disappointment. It sounded like Shaun would have to wait until next Halloween…**

**“It would also appear that our troops stationed overseas are experiencing some unusual weather, as well…”**

**And Novak quickly lost interest in the report. What was to follow that statement could only be more insane war talk from people who thought they knew what war was like. Talk about the enemy as though they weren’t out facing the same conditions, the same doubts, and the same fears that every other soldier has. It would paint the “Commies” as some sort of horrible, nightmare threat that deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth. War propaganda. Couldn’t even listen to the damned weather without hearing about how the War was doing.**

**The doorbell rang and Wyatt looked up. They weren’t expecting company, were they? Everyone who knew them, friends and family, had agreed to meet them at the ceremony so they wouldn’t get in the way of Wyatt and Nora getting ready beforehand.**

**“Can you get that? It’s probably that salesman. He comes for you every day.” Nora explained, glancing over the paper.**

**That was good enough reason, if any, to get the door. Wyatt set his coffee and comic book aside, getting up from his stool for good this time. He walked to the door, opening it to find a man standing far too close to Wyatt for his own comfort. It was as though the man had expected to walk right on inside, but Wyatt’s muscular frame had blocked him from doing so. If that were the case, the man looked ultimately unperturbed. His yellow coat and hat made him look even more pale in the October sun, but his wide smile was what surprised Wyatt the most.**

**“Good Morning! Vault-Tec calling!” The man recited the rehearsed tagline as though he hadn’t said it a million times already. He tipped his hat and fingered a clipboard in his hands; the clipboard had the familiar Vault-Tec logo printed on the back. Wyatt thought it a bit silly to brand a clipboard. There was no exceptional value to it, and he seriously doubted anyone was taking clipboards from representatives and not handing them back.**

**“Good morning.” Wyatt replied with the expected courtesies.**

**“Isn’t it? Just look at the sky out there!” The representative commented cheerfully, not noticing that his customer seemed disinterested in smalltalk. With a clear of this throat, the representative spoke once more. He wasn’t interested in Wyatt’s reply. “You can’t begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I’ve been trying for days. It’s a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.”**

**“Then I’m glad you caught up with me.” Wyatt answered, once again only in a polite tone. Salesmen always put him on edge. He never understood why none of them could just drop the act and act like a real person. Was there anyone who actually fell for their routine?**

**“Oh, me too! You have no idea…” the representative muttered at first, but then cleared his throat and spoke up. “Now, I know you’re a busy fellow, so I won’t take up much of your time. Time being a, um, precious commodity…”**

**Wyatt’s brow creased in confusion. He had just wished that the Vault-Tec representative would act more realistically, but there was something too real in the way he was muttering and rushing his words.**

**“I’m here today to tell you that because of your family’s service to our country, you have been preselected for entrance into the local Vault. Vault 111.” The representative spoke almost worshipfully and waved his hands with a flourish. His attempt to sell a hole in the ground as a grand opportunity with no catches, fine print, or ulterior motives. Wyatt didn’t buy it.**

**“But there’s enough room for my entire family, right?” Wyatt ventured to ask. If the world were to come to an end, he’d rather stay with his family than be the only one allowed entrance into a Vault.**

**“Of course. Of course! Minus your robot, naturally.” The Vault-Tec representative assured him. “In fact, you’re already cleared for entrance. It's just a matter of verifying some information. Don’t want there to be any hold ups, in the unforeseen event of… total atomic annihilation. Won’t take but a moment.”**

**And with that, the representative handed his clipboard over to Wyatt to fill out some boring forms about Wyatt’s health, his family, and a bizarre personality or aptitude test. It took longer than a moment, but it wasn’t too painful. If it was for his family’s well being, he could suffer through some paperwork while being smiled at constantly by a stranger.**

**“Congratulations on being prepared for the future!” The representative had said as he backed away from the door. Wyatt had never really seen vaults as being prepared for the future so much as he saw them as buying yourself a bit more time, but there was no harm in signing up if all expenses were paid. He awkwardly thanked the representative and shut the door, still feeling awkward and in a plane slightly shifted from reality.**

**“Hey, it’s peace of mind. That’s worth a little paperwork, right?” Nora asked as Wyatt returned to the counter to finish his coffee, noticing the strange look on his face.**

**“For you and Shaun, no price is too high.” Wyatt reassured her.**

**Nora laughed, knowing that Wyatt was being just as serious as he was sarcastic. “Good answer.”**

**“I have my moments.” Wyatt grinned in return as he picked up his cup, ready to take his first sip before it started getting cold.**

**Crying. Once again.**

**Wyatt put his coffee cup back down on the counter and looked up as Codsworth floated back into the livingroom. The robot’s three eyes were fixed on him, so he knew he would be the one Codsworth would address.**

**“Mister Wyatt… Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that ‘paternal affection, you seem to be so good at.” Codsworth intoned over the continuing sobs from the back bedroom.**

**Wyatt felt strange having Codsworth single him out when it came to matters of taking care of Shaun. Nora was a good mother, and she loved their son as much as he did. The fact remained that Nora was a working woman and Wyatt was currently a stay-at-home dad. He spent more time with Shaun, and he came from a very large family. Babies were not as foreign a concept to him as they were to his wife.**

**“You heard Codsworth. Go on.” Nora laughed softly, encouraging Wyatt to take control. She never held it against Wyatt that he knew how to handle Shaun, and he was grateful. Setting his coffee down, at this point giving up on it, he stood up and made his way back to Shaun’s room.**

**The room was clean, spotless. Shaun was yet too young to explore his own bedroom and play with his toys on the floor, but the boy was known to push his teddy bear through the bars of his crib from time to time. It made Wyatt laugh to watch Shaun’s face grow suddenly serious as he tested his motor and problem solving skills. Codsworth likened him to a nuclear physicist, with a curious mind to match his intellect. Wyatt tried to refrain from assigning any traits to Shaun at this age, as he was still such a blank slate. Shaun could become anything he wanted, and Wyatt would still be proud of him. Though, he had to admit, Shaun did seem to have the look of a smart boy.**

**There was a slight odor of dirty diapers and baby powder hanging in the air from Codsworth’s selfless venture to take care of Shaun himself. It was to be expected. Babies had smells, just like everyone else. The room itself had a rocket ship motif, which Wyatt found silly and also charming. Nora hadn’t allowed Wyatt to put up a poster of Mr. Pebbles to complement the space theme. She had insisted that it would look out of place, which was completely ridiculous. Mr. Pebbles was a real astronaut and an inspiration of bravery for all young boys and girls. Nora had also said that Wyatt’s odd cat fixation needed to be kept in check. So, as a result, the walls remained sadly bare.**

**Centered on a rocket-covered rug in the floor was a sky blue crib with a mobile hanging overtop. Inside the crib laid the fussing bundle that was Wyatt’s beloved son. His little face was screwed up and his fists balled as he cried out loudly. Demanding attention from something more comforting than a machine. Wyatt made his way slowly over to the crib, peeking inside and cooing at the baby with a big smile. The baby stopped crying for a split second and scrunched up his neck, observing his father with blurry, tear-sodden eyes. A moment of contemplation was all it took for Shaun to recognise his father and start to calm down. Wyatt cooed to the baby, making assorted silly noises to encourage Shaun to smile, reaching inside the crib and tickling his son’s tummy with a finger.**

**Shaun’s lips parted and his mouth widened in a toothless smile, his little tongue poking out ever so slightly. The dark eyes he had gotten from his father were barely visible with how far back his chubby, dimpled cheeks were to allow for such a grin. The baby was silent for only a second, then a giggle forced its way out of his unpracticed lungs. Wyatt knew every good parent thought their children to be the cutest, most perfect, and most amazing things on the planet, but it sure didn’t stop him from thinking the same way about his own.**

**“How are the two most important men in my life doing?”**

**Wyatt looked over his shoulder. He had been so enamoured by Shaun that he hadn’t noticed Nora make her way to the room. For all he knew, she had been there the entire time. Judging by the soft look in her eyes, she probably had been. “Spin the mobile a bit, He loves that.”**

**Wyatt spun the mobile for Shaun and the parents watched together as it started to play a soft, comforting tune. Shaun’s attention quickly shifted to the rocketships that spun lazily over his crib. His smile widened even further and he shook his little arms in delight, pounding them gently on the mattress that lined his crib.**

 

It was a perfect moment. One of the few he could recall with absolute clarity. Wyatt wiped his nose on his sleeve, staring into the fire to keep himself distracted from the unbidden emotions that welled up in his gut. He supposed it had something to do with shock, or trauma. He wasn’t sure. Whatever the cause, it had preserved that day almost perfectly in his mind. He would relive it, and what came after when he spent any evening sober and unoccupied with some sort of task. Try as he might, he could not force the flames to become engaging enough from letting his mind wander further into that day.

 

**“...Followed by… yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions… We’re… we’re trying to get confirmation…” The reporter on the news said slowly. All pretence of professional distance had been abandoned. His voice was hollow, and there was a layer of sweat on his brow that could be seen even on the television screen.**

**Wyatt stared at the television, as disbelieving as the news reporter. He barely heard Nora adamantly pressing Codsworth for the earlier information that they had missed from the broadcast, Shaun cradled in her arms.**

**“But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations…” Novak heard Nora gasp as the reporter continued. “We do have… coming in… confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania.”**

**Wyatt felt as though he had just been plunged into a pool of ice water. The air in his lungs was forced out of him, his body was frozen. He couldn’t breathe. He felt nothing in any of his extremities. Confirmed nuclear detonations. The phrase echoed in his mind mercilessly, making him lightheaded. Major cities. The amount of lives lost. War. Total atomization. Jumbled, half thoughts flashed behind his eyes, and he felt sick. Sick and afraid.**

**“...My God…” The reporter set down his notes and rested his face in his hands, his voice only a dry whisper. It had happened. It had finally happened… Wyatt’s vision blurred for just a second, his emotions overwhelming him. The sound of TV static brought him back to his own mind. The television was now displaying a “Please Stand By” message, indicating that the connection to the news station had been cut off.**

**“Oh my God…!” Nora exclaimed, her voice shaking like she was about to vomit.**

**The change that had taken Wyatt happened in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, nothing else mattered to him but getting his family to safety. Every moment wasted with hesitation or frivolous thought could cost them their lives. He rounded on Nora, grabbing her by the shoulder and staring into her eyes with a soldier’s determination.**

**“We need to get to the Vault. Now!” Wyatt shook her as the distant wail of sirens started at a low note, then raised in pitch and intensity with the mounting desperation and panic that was swiftly spreading through the peaceful neighborhood. Nora looked afraid, but she swallowed her fear and nodded.**

**“I’ve got Shaun. Let’s go!”**

**Together, they raced into the streets. Wyatt kept a hand on Nora’s upper arm, his grip too strong and bruising her. She said nothing. The pain kept her mind sharp, and she knew that the marks meant that Wyatt refused to let either of them go. As they ran down the sidewalk, Wyatt saw their neighbors pouring out of their houses and looking around helplessly. Most were in a panic, some in tears. Screaming was audible in the din of the alert sirens. He felt a rush of wind blow over his head, and the sound of rushing blades cutting through air. A vertibird. Military issue. Whether it had come from Concord for the Veteran’s ceremony, or if it was part of the guard stationed at the vault at the top of the hill, just outside of the neighborhood, Wyatt didn’t know. He didn’t have time to guess. He knew which way he was going, and he pulled Nora along with him. They were already at the dirt path to the vault by the time a man turned on the loudspeaker on the vertibird to address the neighborhood.**

**“Residents of Sanctuary Hills! If you are registered, evacuate to Vault 111 immediately!” The voice instructed with practiced ennunciation and calm. Had Wyatt looked back, he would have seen a crowd of people suddenly running in the direction he and his family were headed, registered or not. They were passed caring. They were a panicking mass, and the soldier stationed at the dirt path to direct traffic was not enough to keep them at bay.**

**Wyatt pulled Nora passed a couple along the road, arguing about their personal belongings. He would have recognized their faces if he allowed himself to slow for a moment, but he did not. There was no time. Nora seemed more reluctant to pass people by, but Wyatt’s grip on her arm reminded her. Their priority was not to their neighbors, it was to each other, and their son. Millions were dead already, and more would die. If they didn’t want to be included in the death toll, they had to keep moving.**

**Wyatt and Nora were both out of breath when they reached the gait at the top of the hill, having sprinted the entire way. Wyatt’s adrenaline was still pushing him forward at a pace no human should be able to keep up, but he knew Nora was in a way grateful for what they faced next. There was a crowd of people standing at the fence, being held back by armed soldiers. They were trying to get inside the vault, but they were not registered. The soldiers were taking no charity cases. If they weren’t on Vault-Tec’s list, they were not allowed entrance. The billboard to their right loomed as a mocking satire of their exact situation. A line of smiling faces were being lead inside a vault, to safety, with their families. Everything was calm, pleasant. The Vault-Tec mascot smiled encouragingly as bombs went off in the background. A stark contrast from the reality.**

**For a horrible, terrifying moment, Wyatt thought they would be denied entry as well, forced to stay outside while the worst imaginable fate became of them. What if the representative from Vault-Tec had not yet added their names to the roster? What if he and his family were not in the system yet? His heart leapt into his throat, pounding in his ears as he pushed passed the growing crowd of angry civilians, his hand still holding tightly to Nora. People pressed in on them from all sides, but his strong arm was the anchor that kept them from separation.**

**As they got closer to the front, Wyatt saw people holding each other and crying. A man was clinging to and kicking the fence with his feet. A voice rose above the sound of the swarming mass, a voice Wyatt recognized and nearly vomited on the spot as he heard.**

**“That’s absurd. I AM Vault-Tec! I’m going in. You can’t stop me.” The Vault-Tec representative in the yellow-tan coat and hat exclaimed, taking a step forward. Two soldiers with heavy automatic weapons, clad in full, state-of-the-art suits of power armor raised their guns to the representative as a warning. Wyatt watched the representative stumble back quickly in fear, submitting. Wyatt felt light headed as the representative pushed passed him and asserted that he would make a report to higher authorities, the sounds of despair surrounding him seemed to be leaking into his soul. The Vault-Tec representative had been denied entry. Had he made it inside to submit Wyatt’s forms? Nora put a hand on Wyatt’s arm, calming him. He hadn’t realized he had been shaking until she comforted him to stop. No, God damn it. He was not going to let his wife and son die this way. He’d take an entire chest cavity of ballistic rounds if that’s what it took to punch the soldier in the face, break his teeth, and get his family inside.**

**“We need to get in! We’re on the list.” Wyatt said quickly as soon as the soldier with a particular Vault-Tec clipboard called out to anyone in the Vault program. Could it possibly be? Wyatt barely dared to hope.**

**“Infant… Adult male… Adult female…” The soldier scrutinized Wyatt and his family, checking and double checking the clipboard. “Okay, go ahead.”**

**Wyatt could have cried in relief, but he knew they weren’t safe yet. A man in a protective blue suit, combat padding, and a helmet ran to greet them and usher them quickly to safety as soon as the soldiers in power armor stepped to close the path behind them.**

**It was Nora who dared to ask the question that had been haunting Wyatt since they had left their house. Of course she would be the one to ask it; she was a lawyer. “What’s going to happen to all those people outside the gate?”**

**“We’re doing everything we can, now keep moving!” The security officer reassured her. It was meant to be a non-committal reply, but it explained even more of the truth than the man ever could have hoped to by answering.**

**The Novak family was escorted by a number of Vault-Tec security force members to the top of the hill. It was surrounded by a few more soldiers and patrolled by the sky via another vertibird. The vault entrance was nothing more than a platform sticking up from the center of all the commotion. It overlooked Sanctuary Hills. They were instructed to stand in the center of the platform with a small group of people Wyatt recognized as their neighbors. Wyatt could see panic growing in their neighborhood below, and he could still hear the screams. What was taking the security team so long? Why were they standing around waiting?**

**The order was given to lower the platform.**

**Still on edge, Wyatt took deep breaths and shuffled around on the platform, He turned to his wife, who was cradling their son close to her chest. He saw fear in her face, but no hints of panic. She was so brave. Shaun, too. He was fussing from the noise, but he seemed to only be inconvenienced rather than upset.**

**“Almost there. We’re gonna be okay…” Wyatt said, putting his other hand on Nora’s shoulder, to get her attention. She looked into his eyes and nodded slowly, showing she trusted him. He allowed himself enough emotional leeway to move his hand and cup the side of Nora’s face, stroking her cheek. She leaned into the comforting touch. “I love you. Both of you.”**

**“We love you too.” She answered, kissing the palm of his hand, offering just as much strength back to him as he had lent to her. His eyes misted for a moment as he was overcome with love for this woman, and for the child she had carried. Not just from their home to the top of the hill, but for the nine months she had been pregnant with him. Wyatt had been fascinated by her entire pregnancy. As a soldier, he had known plenty of men and women to be brave and strong. It hadn’t prepared him to see what Nora went through day after day, just to care for a small person who hadn’t even been born. Even in childbirth, which had been long and drawn out, she was strong. She had created an entire human being with her own body, and then brought that human being into the world through sweat, blood, and screams. All he had been able to do was start the process and hold her hand at the end. She was incredible. If they did die here, at least Wyatt knew that she understood.**

 

Novak stared into the campfire, mesmerized by the dancing flames. Perhaps he was getting drunk now. He had always held some sort of fascination with fire, even as a boy. He would sit in the driveway with a magnifying glass, not burning ants. Ants didn’t burn in a satisfying way. They fizzled for a moment, then smoked, and that was it. He would burn newspapers, firecrackers, he even burned a hole in his shirt once just to see what would happen. It occurred to him how strange it was that energy and light went hand in hand in such a way. He was no scientist. He was certain there was an explanation as to why a fire produced light. He took another drink as the alcohol started to mix memory and conscious thought. He was too far passed the point of preventing it from happening. Now, all he could do was keep drinking until he couldn’t feel it or until he passed out.

Novak had pulled Nora close by the back of the head, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he blinked his eyes clear. If his eyes had closed in the instant that his entire life had atomized, he could not have told the difference. There was a horrible, blinding light that outshone even the sun overhead. It was so powerful, shadows seemed to disintegrate. There was nowhere the light couldn’t reach to scour clear. Then, came the sound. Louder than thunder, louder than anything any of them had heard. A boom that rattled through solid mass, and resonated in the bones.

He had been facing it. **He saw the light over Nora’s shoulder dissipate, forming into a hot bloom of fire and smoke that tunneled skyward, pushing outward once it reached its peak and spreading like a nightmare for all eyes to see. Nora had yelled something, but Novak couldn’t remember what it was. He was held mesmerized by the rotating shapes in the cloud, haunted by its power down to his core. He had grabbed ahold of her when she had stumbled forward, supporting her in his arms as she turned to stare at the spectacle. The soldiers and security guards were screaming to one another, ordering the vault to be opened, knowing that there was only time to save those standing on the platform.**

Novak remembered telling Nora to hold on as the platform gave an initial lurch, its mechanism springing to life and preparing the descent. He remembered one of his neighbors falling to her knees to pray out loud for deliverance. It was morbidly fitting. As the cloud towered further into the sky, it seemed to set the atmosphere ablaze. **Everything was red and orange, like hell had been awakened from the power of the bomb and was using the pillar of smoke to enter the heavens.**

There was a moment of emptiness that Novak recalled, a second in time where he felt like an observer instead of a participant in the end of the world. A distant numbness had washed through his mind as though to shield him from reality. **He stared at the colors of the sky, and thought them almost beautiful. The distant rumble had brought him back.** From the spot on top of the hill, Novak remembered the cloud of dust and debris rushing forward, bending the wind it almost seemed to him. **The first shock wave was coming fast. Too fast. They were too close to the impact point. The vault door had started to lower, but it was so agonizingly slow. The wave would catch them. It would lift them off the ground and shred them into pieces like it had to every other thing it had touched. Everyone ducked and held up their arm to protect their eyes as the sonic force rushed overhead, just as they had descended far enough for their heads to stay clear. The second boom echoed inside the elevator, refusing to dissipate, taking with it dust that choked every one of them.** Novak had thought they were doomed, but then a pair of thick metal doors slid overtop of them, closing them off from armageddon, and encapsulating them in darkness. **They were descending into their grave.**

These were where his nightmares always began. The light, the sound, then the darkness, and no sound at all. But that was only the first time he had faced the end of the world. Novak’s luck had made it so he had to watch his world end twice, while he could do nothing but watch. His hand lifted unconsciously to his chest. Under his shirt, he felt the familiar form of a single metal band strung over a chain, safely tucked away. A poor attempt at recompense for inadequacies passed. He should have kept his family safe, as he had promised to do. He had failed. Now, he was trapped into a suicidal mission through a radioactive wasteland to salvage what little he could to fulfill that promise after it was far too late. 

Some people called him lucky. He had survived for as long as he had in the wasteland, as a Vault-Dweller. A relic from before the war. He was untouched by mutations and radiation for the most part, which was more than anyone alive in this time could say. Luck. That’s what they called it. Novak scoffed bitterly into his drink. Luck.


End file.
